EmpoweringParents.com

“Mean Mommy” reared her ugly head again last week when my 5 year-old son glared at me, licked his lips, and spat on our living room floor. The look on my face must have been pretty scary, because he then squeaked, “I had a bug in my mouth! It was an accident!” and ran behind the couch to hide. I now understand what it means to “see red” when you’re angry, because I felt like a cartoon character with smoke pouring out of my ears and hot lava spewing from the top of my head.

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Here’s a dirty little secret: I long for the type of family bedtime that you see in the movies. You know, the one where the parents read their children a book, kiss them on their freshly-scrubbed foreheads with an “I love you,” and softly shut their kids’ bedroom doors at 7 p.m. Read more »

I was on the phone with a good friend of mine the other day when she stopped me cold with a comment about working moms. She said, “I never wanted to put my kids in daycare. I could never do that to my children.” It took me aback because 1) I’m a working mom and 2) I’ve never thought that having my son in daycare was a form of torture for him, or that it made me less of a parent somehow. As usual, I got flustered and said something like, “Er, well, it hasn’t been that bad…”

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I am a bad mom. At least, that’s what I tell myself on a regular basis.

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